


the great protector, is that what i’m supposed to be?

by VITRI0L



Series: the branches of time are withering [4]
Category: DreamSMP, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (also implied) - Freeform, (implied) - Freeform, /roleplay, Big Brother Technoblade, Broken Families, Clay | Dream and Toby Smith | Tubbo are Siblings, Gaslighting, Gen, Heavy Angst, Here we go, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Manipulation, Pain, Suicide, Tubbo dies, help i think i’m a masochist, no beta we die like ghostbur, this shit gets real bad, we’re not out of the pain yet sorry guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:14:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28134519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VITRI0L/pseuds/VITRI0L
Summary: Tommy finally runs away. Dream tells everyone he committed suicide. Tubbo can’t handle living without his best friend.//TW: Suicide, implied manipulation\\
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Toby Smith | Tubbo, No Romantic Relationship(s), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: the branches of time are withering [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2120232
Comments: 24
Kudos: 375





	the great protector, is that what i’m supposed to be?

**Author's Note:**

> more pain *crabrave*
> 
> sometimes i forget how amazing of actors the cc’s are and they continue to astound me with their abilities. i love it.
> 
> title from: pluto projector - rex orange county

Tubbo lets out a weak wail, tears running down his pallid cheeks. They shine gently in the moonlight that filters through the blinds of his office. There’s isn’t a single light on, yet the sixteen year old was still supposed to be working on the pile of papers that spill across the mahogany desk.

But, his visions swims, his head pounds mercilessly and his heart feels like it’s been torn out, leaving his chest cavity empty and void of all feeling.

Numb.

“Tubbo... I’m sorry-“ 

Tubbo can feel Dream’s eyes boring into the top of his head from behind that blank, expressionless mask. He doesn’t look up, gaze fixed on the papers that have teardrop stains and he collapses his head into his shaky hands.

The brunet wants to feel angry at his older brother. He wants to feel the familiar burn of rage, to tell the other what he truly thinks and that this was all Dream’s fault. 

_But, you can’t. Because you’re weak,_ a voice whispers gently.

“I... know-“ he whispers back, unsure if he was answering Dream or the voice.

Dream doesn’t say anything more, merely standing with his boots staining the carpet. There is a tension in the room, just like every other time the brothers meet. They were a very broken family, pushed apart and turned against each other, enemies. That truth was present in all of their interactions and Tubbo can’t remember having a normal conversation with the SMP leader since he agreed to join Dream’s world.

The fact should hurt Tubbo more than it does.

The silence is way too loud, so he fills it.

“I just can’t believe... he actually- why...” he chokes out as the rest of his thoughts dry up on his tongue.

Tubbo doesn’t like silence.

 _This is your fault, y’know,_ an unhelpful thought tells him sweetly.

“I wish that there was something I could do... I really do,” the man in the green hoodie says.

The President looks up at him, green eyes dull and wet with persistant tears. He himself can feel the resentment in the look he throws at Dream, but there is none of the usual guilt that would accompany such an aggressive look.

Dream stiffens visibly, looking rather phantom like in the cold moonlight and darkened office.

“Don’t lie,” Tubbo tells his brother, almost involuntarily.

Dream says nothing else as the brunet lets his gaze fall back to his desk. A lone hand slipped from its place in his hair, shakily resting on the metal chain around his neck. Two fingers carefully snake around the metal and pulling it out from beneath the teen’s suit jacket.

The small compass is exposed and Tubbo grabs it with both hands. The little circle looks so small in his palms and the brunet takes a careful breath.

His dull eyes fall upon the red needle, which is spinning uselessly under cracked glass. Cracks dance across the thin glass, forming little webs on the once beautiful device. 

_Your Tommy._

“He’s... gone...” Tubbo says out loudly.

He prays it isn’t true.

But the needle continues to spin.

And the cracks remain pressed into the glass.

And Dream shifts uncomfortably.

And the world outside is so fucking quiet.

Too quiet.

Tubbo screams.

•••

Dream tells everyone that he knows that Tommy is dead. He tells them that the young teen had jumped into a pool of lava in the Nether and taken his own life. He says that it was a horrible accident and he wished he could have stopped the kid.

Some are distraught. Some look at the leader with saddened eyes laced with distrust. Some don’t really react, just nodded mournfully before going on with whatever task they’d been doing before.

But, no one questions him.

Even Tubbo.

Dream regrets telling his little brother. Because, even if he denies it and lies to himself as much as he can, the masked man still loves the brunet. He was still his brother for fucks sake, even if the world had pitted them against each other. 

Dream held a sweetness in the place where his heart should be for the young President.

So when Tub- _Toby_ screamed loudly, seated at his desk with papers thrown about and blanketed by the night, Dream immediately drops his defenses. He is by the brunet’s side instantly, kneeling next to him and wrapping the kid in a probably unwanted embrace.

His mind races as Toby screams until his voice is hoarse and he can feel the tears soaking his hoodie. Dream doesn’t care, he _can’t_ care as he hushes the teen gently.

One of his gloved hands cradles the back of his brother’s head, softly pushing his tear streaked face into the crook of his neck. The young kid stiffens and for a horrid moment, Dream thinks he is going to pull away. 

Small hands come to wrap around the leader and clinging to the back of his hoodie like Dream is a lifeline and will disappear if the hands let go.

His traitorous mind suddenly wishes to go back to their childhood. Back to memories full of warmth, sunlight, bees and laughter.

Dream stifles that thought instantly.

And he holds Toby until the President gives in. His dull, broken eyes start to fall sleepily closed and his vice grip on Dream loosens. 

“Shhh, there you are,” he tells his baby brother, “Aw, are you tired?”

Toby nods sleepily into his shoulder.

“Let’s get you to bed then. You ready, darling?” he asks calmly.

The hands don’t let go so Dream gets up, hauling the brunet with him. His brother wraps his legs around him as Dream holds him in a tight embrace, not wanting drop the kid.

Dream thinks that he should feel weird, carrying his brother who’s clinging to him like a koala. They have never been close and Dream wasn’t a touchy guy. Though Toby was, the younger never overstepped the masked man’s boundaries for some very obvious reasons.

But the was a warmth that spread through his veins and a fuzzy feelings that made him feel nauseous as his weary legs cared them both out of the White House and into the cold night.

Dream stands beside the crane, wind nipping at his hands as he fishes for an Enderpearl in his hoodie pocket.

“Where we goin’?” Tubbo mumbles.

“To my place, if you don’t mind,” Dream tells him.

“No... don’t mind- ‘m exhausted...”

A small smile creeps across Dream’s hidden face.

He pearls to the community house and tucks Tubbo into one of the spare beds on the second floor. Dream runs a gentle hand through those dark, brunet locks comfortingly until those small hands slip from his hoodie and into the fluffy blankets.

Dream moves to drag another bed beside Tubbo’s, but not before pressing a light kiss to his brother’s forehead.

He needs to pay a visit to Techno.

But first, he lays awake, watching the darkness for any sort of threat or any kind of movement.

Toby looks so peaceful.

Dream smiles.

•••

“Where is he, Techno.”

Tenchoblade sighs, running a pink tinted hand running through his long, pink hair spilling down his back and over his shoulders. It’s too early for any of this shit. Besides, he didn’t appreciate standing with the door open, letting in the cold winter wind while he stood in black pants and a red turtleneck, the beginnings of an uniform from long ago.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dream,” the half piglin says in an exasperated monotone.

The tyrant stands in the snow bank with just sweats and his classic hoodie. He bares no armour, which seemed rather pretentious to Techno. He doesn’t let it bother him, however, because that would be what Dream would want. The man may seem underprepared, but Techno wasn’t so stupid as to not assume that the other was hiding loads of gapples and pearls in his pack.

Techno scowls as he can practically feel Dream narrowing his eyes. The silence is tense and suffocating. Techno struggles to suppress the need for blood that the voices demand, though his face remains blank.

Dream sighs loudly making Techno scowl a little deeper. The pink haired man raised an eyebrow in mock confusion as the tyrant just shrugs.

“Whatever, then. I can’t get you to talk,” he says calmly, taking a pearl and rolling it in one of his gloved hands.

Techno says nothing.

“See ya,” says the annoying casual voice.

Dream pearls away and Techno is left with a cool anger humming beneath his pinkish skin. He shuts the dark oak door a little louder than he should and makes his way up the ladder to his bedroom.

 _If I were anyone else, he would have taken what he wanted by force,_ Techno thinks with a bitter humour as he mindlessly walks to his bookshelf.

Techno knows that he should have thrown Tommy out a long time ago. The voices are upset with him, they don’t understand the sudden loyalty to one of the people that betrayed the man. They yell at him and his head pounds in an furious symphony.

Tommy, the teen who is boisterous and loud, whose personality takes up so much space that it can nearly be suffocating at times. He’s demanding, rude, and a little fucker who doesn’t listen to anyone. He steals Techno’s stuff from his chests when the hybrid isn’t look and he often butts into every conversation Techno has with Phil or Wilbur, loud and opinionated.

Techno should have thrown the little raccoon like boy who is nothing more than a thief and an annoyance that happens to live under his floorboards.

He could have turned him right then.

Techno frowns.

He saves that cool anger, pushing it behind his heart. 

For someone more a little more...

_...deserving._

•••

They had Technoblade. They **had** him, he was trapped in that cage, helpless with none of his supplies on him and they were so close.

But now, most wanted man across all the nations escaped into the sewers, and back to safety

And Dream helped him escape.

Quackity was furious, yelling and raving loudly in the public square where they’d planned to execute the traitor.

Tubbo was only half listening to him. His thoughts wandered helplessly and his finger traced the metal chain around his neck absentmindedly.

The President should have expected this kind of his betrayal from Dream. He had learned the hard way that the leader had no concept of loyalty, not even to family.

 _He only cares about power,_ he thinks.

The weight in Tubbo’s heart only grows and his head feels like he’s underwater. 

He vaguely notices Quackity’s concerned glances and the fact that the Vice President had stopped his rant.

“Tubbo...” the other teen asks gently.

Tubbo feels the remainder of his heart burning away, the pieces left behind after Tommy... It’s turning to ash and he feels an aching loneliness deepening. All of his nerve endings scream in pain. But, there is nothing Tubbo can do to stop the fire.

A memory of a warm embrace and a gentle kiss on his forehead.

It burns.

A reminiscence about happier times, filled with sunlight and laughter.

It’s burning.

Hate, pain, suffering, loss and failure that are so familiar.

He **burns** with it.

•••

Tommy flips the cool metal between his palms, running a calloused finger over the little inscription on the back.

_Your Tubbo._

The words are a gentle comfort but a sharp pain. It feels sweet but there are knifes hidden in that sweetness. They tear at the blond’s heart, spilling blood and splitting the flesh into thousands.

Something catches his skin and there is a sharp throb of pain that runs up his nerves and sends a shiver down his spine.

“Fuck,” Tommy curses lightly.

He flips the compass and his heart stutters.

There is a shard of glass stuck into the thick of his hand. It bleeds every so lightly, but enough to have marked the grey metal a deep red.

Tommy’s breath catches harshly in his throat as he pulls the offending glass out. He throws it haphazardly across the small room.

The glass protecting the green needle is broken, spilt with deep cracks running along the surface. The needle continues to point north, as it always had, but something felt... off.

Tommy sits in the basement of his older brother’s house, in the rather shit room he’d made for himself and waits. What for, he doesn’t know, but there is a cold grip in his guts and it only grows harsher as the seconds tick.

 _Maybe... maybe I should message him,_ he thinks.

 _No, no. Don’t do that, he would want to talk to you anyways! He exiled you, remember, Tommy?_ a more accented and familiar voice tells him.

“It’s the 24th... Tubbo’s birthday...” Tommy whispers, biting the inside of his cheek.

Shaky hands grab the communicator in the pocket of his cargo pants. His stomach turns and Tommy feels like he’s going to be sick. 

He shouldn’t do this.

_Hey, Tubbo, happy birthday big man! I hope your day goes well :) i’m sorry i can’t be there... have a good day <3_

He presses send, the silent house only making it harder from the teen to get air to his lungs.

Tommy waits.

_Tubbo_ drowned_

•••

Tubbo is burning. His whole body is on fire and he can’t put it out.

He wants the flame gone.

The young President stands on a pillar that he built on the edge of where the ocean monument was going to be. Below him is the blue ocean, deep and inviting.

The water will put out the fire in him, it will accept him into its depths and pull him into the darkness. The ocean doesn’t care who Tubbo is, and it doesn’t care about the mistakes he has continued to make and it won’t judge him and he’ll finally put out the all consuming fire and it’ll be wonderful...

It’ll be _wonderful._

The site for the ocean monument is far out.

Only four people know where it is.

Tubbo sighs, hand clenching the broken compass hidden under his suit jacket.

_At least I’ll be with Tommy once more._

The now seventeen year old jumps.

And he...

**...f a l l s .**

Adrenaline pours through him as the water pulls his body towards it. Tubbo feels the way the cold water gives away when he breaks the surface. The ocean lets him in easily and his plummets like a rock, away from the rest of the world.

The dying sunlight seems too far up now. The water grows colder, surrounding the teen on all sides. He stares up at the dancing surface of the water, air bubbles escaping his parted lips.

But the fire only grows. His lungs are on fire too, and it only flames the rest of the fire in his body, the one that makes his arms burn and his head pound.

Tubbo feels himself try to breath in. Cold water fills his burning lungs, fueling the flame. But, he can’t struggle. The brunet goes limp, and his vision grows spotty, the world suddenly full of black dots.

Afraid. He’s afraid.

He regrets...

And it hurts. So bad, there are needles embedding themselves in his skin. Tubbo’s being cut up from the inside. It was worse than his other deaths.

_I’m- dying... finally..._

Tubbo doesn’t think about Dream. No, his thoughts wander to Tommy. His best friend, the person he’d started this adventure with. The President hopes that Tommy will forgive him when he’s sees him again. Tommy won’t like that Tubbo has killed himself too.

Tubbo’s lidded eyes catch a glance at the broken compass, now suspended in the water and made almost weightless.

_Tommy whispers to you: Hey, Tubbo, happy birthday big man! I hope your day goes well :) i’m sorry i can’t be there... have a good day <3_

A single saline tear mixes in with the salty, freezing water.

•••

Tommy kneels gently in the thin layer of snow. He wears an old brown trench-coat with a black shawl that smells like mint and coffee and _soot_ that keeps the winter chill out. The blond reaches a bony hand up, brushing of the snow from the inscription.

_Here lies Toby_  
_A brillant leader, a kind brother to all and, most importantly, the most loyal friend one could ask for  
May he rest in peace_

Tommy hums gently as dull thorns bury themselves in his heart. He’d written the inscription himself and he was rather proud. He’d even picked the spot, placing it near Wilbur’s grave in the rapidly expanding graveyard.

Vaguely his mind told him that Tubbo would be upset that an exile had made the President’s gravestone, but Tommy doesn’t believe it.

He doesn’t believe those thoughts anymore.

“You would have been eighteen today, big man,” he whispers gently, brushing the cold stone lovingly.

Loss fills his empty heart.

There is another gravestone next to Tubbo, one that is not Wil’s. Tommy doesn’t visit that one. He doesn’t like that grave and the teen had even fought for it to be put somewhere else, though to no avail.

However, Tommy was still proud of that one.

Because he’d put that body in the ground.

_Here lies Clay_

The winter bites at his exposed face and Tommy wobbly smiles, it feeling rather strained.

And the rest is silent.

**Author's Note:**

> i like the idea of dream & tubbo being brothers because it makes everything that much more painful 
> 
> i hope you are well <3
> 
> have a good day!


End file.
